


A frozen doctor

by Mycroffed



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: A Confession, Confrontation, Decisions to make, Feels apparently, Flashback, John is awake, John's going to wake up soon, Khan or Sherlock, M/M, Now John is an idiot, Sherlock becomes Khan, Sherlock is an idiot, Sherlock's the hero of the day, Sick Doctor, Sophia can see beyond the masks, Sophia is basically fem!John, Star Trek/Sherlock Crossover, Time to wake up, according to my friend at least, but not really, disbelief, for a while, heartbroken, just a way of Khan coping, mentions of Torchwood, people almost die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/Mycroffed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John Watson becomes so ill that nobody can treat him, Sherlock goes to look for a cure. He manages to prolong his life span with some help so that he is no longer restricted by the technology of the 21th century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I was, a long time ago, looking for a good Star Trek/Sherlock crossover and to be honest, I couldn't find one that I liked. So I thought about writing a crossover myself. Thanks for reading, kudo'ing and commenting!

John had been sick for weeks. It had started as a simple cold with a vicious cough but by the time Sherlock got worried it had developed to a point that John couldn’t even leave the bed without getting dizzy and faint. Sherlock had told him fairly quickly that he needed to go to the doctor, but John had insisted that he was perfectly fine, that he could be his own doctor.

Sherlock shook his head thinking about it. What would’ve happened if he had sent John to the doctor? It didn’t matter, he dismissed the thought. This sort of thinking didn’t help the situation.

Finally, when John had reached the stage of bed rest, he had been able to convince the ex-army doctor to go to the doctor. Or rather, let the doctor come to him.

John had been grumpy the entire visit of the man and for once, Sherlock was the one who had told him that his behavior was ‘a bit not good’. John had just grumbled in response.

The doctor had examined him but hadn’t been able to find anything wrong with the other doctor. He had suggested to move him to a hospital and do some blood tests there, but Sherlock had refused. He could do the tests himself faster and better than the idiots in the hospital ever would. And so Sherlock had taken some blood from John and had gotten behind microscope. He hadn’t found anything. Not a single thing. He had brought John to the hospital and had offered the doctors his help, which they declined of course. They had attached John to machines that helped him breathe, eat and eventually live.

It broke Sherlock’s heart to see him like that. They had decided, just after John had gotten really sick, that they should break up, that it wasn’t fair to Sherlock to keep him attached to a dying man. Well, it was John who had decided that and Sherlock who hadn’t protested. Not that it mattered a lot, the chance that he would ever find another man, prepared to live with him and love him was incredibly small.

But then Torchwood had got in touch. They had needed someone with brains like him and in exchange they would freeze John until Sherlock had found a cure. It could be his own special project.

And Sherlock had given in. John had been frozen and Sherlock made head of the medical department of Torchwood. Like this, the years had passed and Sherlock soon realized that if he didn’t do anything, he’d die before the technology to save John would arrive in the world. So he started to experiment on himself, making himself stronger, faster and even cleverer than any normal human. Eventually he managed, with a drip of Jack’s blood, to prolong his life span.

But the experiments had an effect on his state of mind. He Lived longer than any other human and saw everyone he cared about die around him. He became cynical and had to disappear from time to time so that the people around him wouldn’t get suspicious. He also chose a new name, time after time after time.

And the world changed. The human race learned to make space ships and started to explore space, bringing new technology back. It was when Sherlock finally started to get hope again that someone discovered his secret and forced him to make more people like him. The human had used him and his newly born family and they had been punished for the crimes committed it his name. He was frozen himself and again, he found himself in a hopeless situation.

Eventually, someone found him again, used him. But this man made a mistake. He made him work in the very place where he, many years ago, had hid his lover. He got to work, after his hours, and managed to sneak John onto his space ship, when he was almost cured.

Sherlock was happier than he had ever been in years, no in centuries, but, like everything else in life, it didn’t work out as planned.


	2. A confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers,  
> Happy hollidays! I know I'm already too late for some of them and too early for some others, but I still hope you enjoy this magical time of the year. I'm going to keep the chapters a bit shorter than my other sories because I don't have that much time to write. I'll update as often as I can for now. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading, kudo'ing and commenting!

Time went by and finally – FINALLY – Sherlock found a cure for John’s disease. By then Sherlock had fled his home planet after he had been made a fugitive. He had a base on some B-rated planet where nobody would come look for his or his crew. It didn’t matter though, that he couldn’t go back to that flat in Baker Street. It was destroyed a long time ago anyway.

The closer he got to waking John up, the more time he spent in the sick bay, sitting next to John’s body. And of course the crew started to notice how much their captain was distracted by this man. They were getting worried, but most of all, Sophia was.

Sherlock – or Khan, as the rest of his crew called him these days – didn’t socialize with anyone, except Sophia. She was the only one he had told where he went when he disappeared for hours on end. He actually liked her. She reminded him of John in a strange way. She was the only doctor on board. Not that they needed it, he and his crew barely got sick, but from time to time someone did something as stupid as cut himself or break an arm and then they needed her. Most of the time she just helped around wherever she could. Which meant that she ended up hanging around on the bridge a lot.

So when Sherlock had disappeared again for a couple of hours, she was the one who knew where to find him. She walked to the sick bay and yes there he was, captain Khan. She walked over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock looked up surprised.

“Hello captain.”

Sherlock sighed and his eyes travelled back to John’s body. “I’m so close.” He murmured.

“So close to what, captain?” Sophia frowned slightly.

“Getting him back. I love him you know.” He ran his hand over the cryotube.

“And he is…?” She asked hesitantly. She didn’t really know what kind of reaction to expect from her captain.

“Doctor John Hamish Watson.” He smiled fondly, lost in his memories. “ _My_ John Watson.”

There was a short silence. Sophia was waiting for Khan to tell her more about him and the captain was far, far away. Back in time, revisiting some of his favorite moments.

“We were engaged, once.” He looked lovingly at the man. “Of course he called it off immediately when he realized that he was going to die…”

“He knew? That he was sick, I mean.”

“Oh yes he did. He had been on bed rest for months. He was getting so annoyed with the whole situation. It was only days before the doctor had estimated his death that someone came up to me and proposed to freeze him so that I could look for a cure. And now I’ve found it.”

“You’re going to wake him up?” She frowned slightly. “But isn’t he going to be all disoriented? I mean, from what I’ve understood he’s been asleep for ages…”

“He’ll be fine, he always is. Besides I’m here for him, right?”

“Do you even remember your name when you met him?” They had had a conversation about this name thing a couple of weeks ago. About how confusing it could become when you’ve lived for so long that you needed to change names.

“Of course I do! William Sherlock Scott Holmes. How can I ever forget my first name?”

“Where did you live?” She sighed slightly. “What was your life like what did you do? Do you all remember it? Do you think you’ll be able to pick up being Sherlock Holmes again? You’ve changed, Khan, you know you have. Do you think he’ll even recognize you?”

“Shut up.” He growled softly. “Of course he will and I will _always_ stay Sherlock Holmes. I still am.”

“Would he have growled at me?”

He grew quiet.

“You’ll need to make a decision. Do you want him to get him to know you as Khan and start again or reintroduce you as Sherlock with the risk that as soon as he notices how much you’ve changed he’ll dump you again.”

“Please just shut up…” He sighed. “I need to think.”

“What about?”

“Sophia, get out now!” He got up and shouted loudly at her.

Sophia quickly left the room with tears in her eyes. Sometimes Khan could be such a dick, she thought quite loudly.


	3. The awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR! I know I'm a day late, but it doesn't really matter. I wish you all the best and everything you could probably wish for.

As soon as Sophia left the room, Sherlock collapsed on the only chair in the room, tears filling his eyes. She was right, of course she was. John would never recognize him or love him like Khan. What did he need to do now? He needed John, alive, in his arms. He wanted to forget everything Sophia said, just sleep tightly with John.

He stared angrily at the cryotube with John in it, like it was all his fault. But he couldn't be angry at his lover for young, so he just started to list the pros and cons of the two options.

As Sherlock, he had the advantage that John would know and love him, just like he had when he had only been a detective instead of the captain of a spaceship. There was a disadvantage though. He had only realized now that Sophia had mentioned it how much he had changed. He had turned cynical and terribly quickly annoyed. Besides that, he had changed physically as well. His black curls that had once been framing his face were now contained with a lot of gel and care every morning. John might, as soon as he realized how much he had changed, dump him. Why did Sophia have to be right about this?  
Sherlock hid his face in his hands and gently rubbed his temples before he continued his list.

At the other side, as Khan, he might not have John's unconditional love, but he had a whole new chance with his doctor. He would be able to fall in love with the man all over again, like Shrek in that fourth movie, if the captain remembered correctly. He had been trying to delete the memory, but it was one of the movies John had made him watch during one of his last days, so he still kept the memory, stowed away in a dark room in his mind palace. In that room there were memories of the few serious rows he had with John, the last look he had gotten from his lover before he was frozen, the look of absolute trust in his lover. He barely visited that room, only when he felt like rolling around in self-pity and crying about how unfair the world was.

If he looked at the list in his mind palace, he weighed all the points on them against each other and decided something. He was not sure if it was the best choice he could make, but he was standing behind it and that was all he needed for now.

He sighed. John was the only one who could make him feel all indecisive and nervous. Trust that man to get him to get all trembling and whimpering at the mere thought of losing him.  
He got up and walked over to his desk, finishing the pills and then picking up the cure for John. He played briefly with the pills before he started to defrost the man in the cryotube.  
He had to do this, he said to himself. He couldn't live with himself any longer, knowing that he got the cure but still didn't save his lover's life. His mind wondered, while the cryotube did his work, back to his last memory with John.

 

*

 

'Sherlock...' John sighed slightly as he sat upright in his bed. He looked pale, but that was normal these last couple of days. He was close to dying now, in fact, he could stop breathing any minute, but still he used his breath to stop Sherlock from saving his life.

The detective was sitting next to John on the bed and holding his hand. Jack Harkness was standing next to them with a worried look on his face.

'You have just a few hours left to decide, John. You know the risks, you know that Sherlock might not be there when you wake up, but you might live again one day.' Jack honestly thought that this would help the doctor change his mind. Because John didn't want to be saved. He rather wanted to live his last few days in the London he knew rather than sleep for god knows how long and wake up all alone to die without Sherlock. 

'Jack, I appreciate the effort you took to find us and offer this all, but please... Just let me die in peace with my loved ones close to me.' He weakly took his lover's hand. 'I don't want to be alone, not ever again.'  
'John,' Sherlock sighed deeply as he squeezed the other man's hands.

'No, Sherlock, I've made up my mind... You can't change it and you know it.'

'No, John, I want you to listen to me now. You've clearly explained to us how you feel and it's all perfectly fine and a tiny bit selfish to die now, but have you ever thought about me? If you die now, I might collapse in the drugs habit I used to have, while if you let me at least try to save you, I'll live in hope until I die. Please, love, let me do this, let me try to save you one last time.'

'Sherlock…' John looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

'I know it's a rubbish speech... Ignore it, forget I ever said it…' He sighed and turned away from John.

'No, you're right... I-I...' He coughed loudly and Sherlock quickly gave him a glass of water, which he drunk thankfully. 'I never thought about you, I was a bit busy being sick you know.' He smiled weakly. 'I never want you to go back to drugs, knowing that you might die one day, all alone again… But Sherlock, just... Just know that I love you and please... When I wake up, please still be there and alive...'

 

*

 

Sherlock was pulled back to the present by John's violent cough. He quickly got one of the pills out and handed it to John with a glass of water. The doctor took the pill and the coughed went away. John's breath deepened and he quickly fell asleep. Sherlock carefully picked up his former lover and he carried him to one of the beds in the sick bay. He smiled fondly at the man and gently stroked the hair out of John's face. The color was returning to his cheeks and the breaths stopped sounding like there was water flowing away from a sink and more like the deep, relaxed snores he was used to. He grinned and kissed his lover's lips before putting Sherlock back behind bars and letting Khan take over. He sighed again, knowing that this was probably his wisest choice. He once again sat down in one of the chairs and tried not to look at John all the time.

'I love you so much, John.' He whispered before he closed his eyes and waited for John to wake up.


	4. Waking up

John opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was in a strange, white room with lights that were too bright for his eyes. He was lying on the bed and slowly sat up straight. He yawned briefly and then blinked confused as he realized he must have been sleeping for quite a while. He remembered Sherlock kissing him goodnight before he closed the lid of the freezer at the head quarters of Torchwood.

He was completely alone in the room and slowly got out of the bed. He already felt so much better so someone must have found a cure for what he had. Would Sherlock still be alive? He wondered. He shrugged. Probably not. He sighed and looked up as someone entered the room.

'Ah, you're awake.'

The man looked at him with a mix of content and happiness, like he was seeing an old friend again. The man was standing in the darker part of the room, so John couldn't see him properly.

'Who are you?'

There was a flash of despair on the man's face, or was that just his imagination. No, it had definately been there.

'It doesn't matter..'

It hit John how much the voice sounded like Sherlock's. He relaxed slightly before he protested, he would very much like to know this man.

The man stepped into the light now, and John gasped loudly. Standing in front of him was almost an exact copy of Sherlock Holmed, with only a few minor differences.

'Sherlock..?' The doctor whispered. 'Is that really you?' He sounded so hopeful.

'I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I'm not who you think I am.' That statement broke John's heart. He was right, he had slept for too long and now Sherlock was dead. 'My name is Khan and I'm the captain of this spaceship.'

John didn't react to the last statement. He lied back down on the bed and turned away from the man. He didn't really care for this Khan if he wasn't Sherlock. He had been one of his first thoughts, that incredible man. He sighed deeply. There was no use on dwelling in the past.

'Sir, are you alright?' Khan was standing next to him now, with a worried look on his face.

'Yes, yes I'm fine..' He mumbled. 'Just some old memories coming back.' Which wasn't technically untrue, but he was bringing them back, not the other way around.

'Are you sure, sir?' The voice of the man was filled with worry, even though he really tried to hide it.

John smiled weakly. He had picked up a few things from living with Sherlock.

'Why are you even worrying about me, I'm just a stranger.'

'Someone left me a note, asking me to look after you. You're dr. John Watson, right?'

So that explained the worry. He turned over to look at the captain. His eyes wondered over the stranger's face to see some unexpected sentiment in the other man's eyes. He frowned slightly.

'And who was this note from?' He was scared that the answer might be Sherlock, scared that he had left it because he wasn't in this world anymore. He didn't even know if he could handle living like that.

'Sherlock Holmes.' The man said quietly, as if he was making a decision by saying that name. 'And I'm really sorry to inform you, sir, but..' The man swallowed tightly. 'He's dead.'

Tears formed into John's eyes immediately so he didn't notice the nervous look on Khan's face. 'N-No, he.. He can't be. He's my Sherlock...' The tears started rolling down his cheeks as he looked back up. 'H-How did he go?' His voice was so fragile, like it could snap any second. He felt like /he/ could snap any second now.

'He died of old age..' There was a slight hesitation before the man added. 'I'm his son.'

 

*

 

 Sherlock had smiled as soon as he came back from the toilet to find John awake. He wanted to run towards the man and cover him in kisses until he felt whole again, but he knew he couldn't. When the doctor spoke his first words, his initial reaction was to smile but then he realized what he had said. 'Who are you.' A tiny flash of despair spread over his face. The thought that being frozen so long might have damaged his brain came up immediately. Sherlock pushed it away as ridiculous. He tried to answer as unlike Sherlock as possible as he stepped into the light, but there must have been something.

'Sherlock, is that really you?' Those few whispered words made his heart fill with happiness. It almost burst out of his chest to hear his lover say his name again, after all those years - all those centuries without it.

But then he had to kill the hope heard in John's voice. Well, he didn't really have to but it was better this way. He couldn't lose John by ruining it later. He almost answered that yes, he was Sherlock, that he had stayed, like he had promised, but he knew he couldn't.

'I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I'm not who you think I am. My name is Khan and I'm the captain of this spaceship.'

His voice was suddenly much colder. He needed his John and when the doctor turned away from him, he felt like a hand was clunched around his heart and was now squeezing it tightly. But he couldn't have him, not now, he told himself again. He'd gone through this so many times in his head and he knew he couldn't, he understood completely, but he had never known hiw difficult it would be to actually say those words.

John continued to ask some confused questions which he answered as correctly as he could until the blogger asked what had happened to Sherlock.

'He died of old age.' He bit his lip slightly before he added that he was the detective's son.

'So he found someone after all.' The doctor smiled slightly. 'That's good..'

Sherlock wished he could turn the entire conversation back and erase it from John's memory to start over anew. 'No, there was never anyone but you, sir.'

'Th-then how..? His voice trailed off and a frown appeared.

'I'm a clone, sir.'

John shook his head. 'No you're not. Stop messing with me Sherlock, I know it's you.'

He heard the frog building up in the other man's throat and he almost said that it was him, that he had managed to live without him and wrap him in hugs and cuddles and- he stopped himself. But he couldn't. 'I'm really not, sir. I'm so sorry.'

As if John's sobbing hadn't been enough, he now let out a cry of complete and utter sadness. Sherlock turned away from him and closed his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. He had to keep control of himself now, he had to for himself, for John.

He was very surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder that forced him to turn around. Another hand went up to his face to cup his cheek.

'You look so very much like him.' John mumbled softly. 'Right until the look in your eyes. It's so hard, so..' He tried to find the right word. 'So cynical. It's not like the Sherlock I knew.' He had slipped into the past tense so easily that he tensed up a bit. 'I'm sorry, Khan...'

Sherlock leaned into the doctor's touch, but only slightly, not enough to be noticed. He closed his eyes as he took in John's familiar smell once again before he got up abruptly and left the room without saying anything else.

 

*

 

John looked up surprised as the captain left the sick bay. He bit his lip nervously as he was all alone again with still no idea in what year he had waken up to and how long Sherlock had been dead. He needed the love of his life right now, to wrap his arms around him, slide his hands into the detective's hair until he moaned all over the place. He had taken the opportunity to do that on seceral occasions. He smiled again and got lost in his memories of the good old days, of a healthy doctor and a loving detective. 


	5. Talking is important

John stayed in the sick bay for quite a while, which wasn’t such a surprise, since he slept for over a hundred years. He had multiple visitors over the days he stayed there. Nurses, the other doctor, Sophia and even some curious faces from around the space ship, but never, ever, the man he was hoping to see, the man who called himself Khan.

He had some interesting conversations with Sophia, not only about how medicine and healing had progressed, but also about the captain. And one day she was there again, sitting next to John when he woke up.

“Hello again, John.”

“Morning, Sophia.” He mumbled sleepily. “How’re you?”

“I’m wonderful, John.” She smiled. “Khan talked to me today.” She had told him quite soon that she had a crush on her captain, even though she knew he didn’t really do that sort of stuff except with John.

“Did he?” He faked interest. He had discovered that Sophia didn’t really mind, as long as he managed to ‘hmm’ and ‘aah’ at the right times.

She started off in a ramble during which John slowly woke up. He tried to listen, he really did, but it didn’t really help that the doctor had such a monotone voice. He had trouble not falling asleep again.

“John, are you listening?”

“Yes, yes I am.” He smiled. “Are you hungry?”

John nodded and Sophia took off in search of something for him to eat. He relaxed again and closed his eyes. He quickly drifted off to sleep again.

 

*

 

“John.”

The ex-army doctor jerked awake and looked up. He thought he heard Sherlock speaking but no, no such luck. It was only the captain. Khan was looking at him with a worried look in his eyes.

“John, are you okay?”

John nodded weakly and gave the captain a weak smile.

“You don’t look okay. You were screaming in your sleep.”

“Wh… What did I say?” He frowned slightly. He knew he still suffered from PTSD and that the nightmares were a sign, but he didn’t want to talk about it so openly yet.

“You were mainly screaming and from time to time, you said a name.”

John blushed. He had a good idea of what name he had been muttering.

“It’s okay, you’re getting used to it. Your brain is remembering. It should get better soon.” The captain tried to calm the doctor down. He was worried about his John. He didn’t remember the dreams being this bad.      He hadn’t told John, but he had been sitting there as soon as Sophia left the room. He wanted to talk to his blogger but when he noticed that he was asleep, he decided to let the man sleep. Until John had started wincing and reach out towards an invisible man beside him. He knew what was going to come next. John was going to grab to his shoulder, so that was when he had woken him.

John nodded weakly. “Y-you woke me just before the worst part. H-How did you know? There’s only one person…” He bit his lip nervously.

Khan wanted to rush to him and hug him, kiss him, hold him tightly, making sure that he would be okay. He just was glad that it was an army dream and not anything about him. Because that had happened, the first few months after Sherlock’s return.

“I… I didn’t.” Khan looked down. He couldn’t. He couldn’t tell John, he’d dump him immediately. His brother had been right all along. Caring is not an advantage.

“You were just lucky?” John sounded slightly sarcastic.

“Yes. It happens.” Khan grumbled softly.

“Fine. Thanks. I don’t really want my first dream to be a nightmare.”

“John… Can I… What do you dream about?” Khan was nervous. He knew what it was, how it worked, why he dreamed, but he needed to hear it again, see if the freezing had any effect on John’s brain.

John started nervously, but the more he talked, the more he relaxed. So relaxed that he didn’t stop after his army days, he continued. He talked about the period between his gunshot and meeting Sherlock, how depressed he was, how desperate he was to end his life. It was only now that Khan discovered that he saved John’s life by just meeting him. It warmed his heart. But John wasn’t done. He talked about his life with Sherlock, the good things and the bad things. He talked about the pool, the roof, the consulting criminal coming back. He forgot that there was anyone in the room, he was talking with such fondness about the best days of his life. When he got to the day he was diagnosed, he abruptly stopped.

“Are you okay, John?” Khan frowned slightly at the doctor.

John didn’t look at the captain, but at someone behind him. Khan looked over and saw Sophia standing in the door way with tears in her eyes.

“Captain.” Her voice broke slightly. “Can I talk to you?”

Khan nodded and got up, leaving his blogger all alone again.


	6. A worried conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, I know, but I'm working very hard and trying to find a way to write and have fun without drowning. I'll try to write longer chapters. Enjoy it anyway.

Khan had followed his doctor out after looking over his shoulder one last time. John had been looking down, like he was sad he left. He couldn’t believe that John had been talking about his life, told him things he hadn’t even told him as Sherlock, to a perfect stranger. He sighed again as he turned his head to Sophia. He noticed that she was a bit red-eyed.

“Are you okay?” He tried to sound concerned.

She huffed slightly, not actually believing that the captain was asking this. “I’m fine. You, however, are not.”

“What do you expect? I love that bloody man and he has no idea who I am.”

“You know you can solve that problem easily.” She tried to smile reassuringly, but she knew he failed not only by the way her bottom lip trembled a bit, but also because Khan gave her an eye roll.

“Yes, well. It wouldn’t be useful to lie to him and then later tell him that we were lying about it.” He sighed. “Sophia, I know.. I know how you feel and I appreciate that you push your feelings aside for my wellbeing, but… I can’t make him lose all faith in me or even you.”

“God, Khan, you’re a drama queen.”

He smirked. “You’re not the first one to tell me that.”

“Then do something about it! That man inside there is pining for his best friend and love of his life and luckily, that man is still alive and he’s close and he wants to try again, but the man is too stubborn, scared that he might lose the now completely healed man. Do you have any idea how stupid this sounds?”

“I’m not stupid...” Khan mumbled. He hated it when people called him that.

“And of course that’s the thing you took with you from that minute of speech.” She sighed.

“But what if-“

“Khan, seriously, stop worrying. Just tell the bloody man who you are and you’ll be fine. Both of you.”

The captain’s reaction was a simple grumble after which he got up to walk in again.

*

John was worried as he saw the captain walk out, but at the same time he wasn’t. He was new, he would know how to treat other crewmembers - at least that’s what he hoped. And Sophia had seemed nice, compassionate. She reminded him of himself just a tiny bit. He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He saw himself and Sherlock in those people because he wanted to, because his brain apparently needed that. He’d wake up in a couple of days only to discover that all of this had been a dream and that the captain was an eighty year old man with grey hair.

He rolled around in his bed trying to ban the captain from his mind. He couldn’t - he just wasn’t ready for something new, not yet. Maybe he would be in a couple of months - or years - when he was sure he wasn’t going to die anymore - apparently that’s a mood killer for relationships.

He curled up, suddenly overwhelmed by sleep. He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he was snoring happily.

*

The first thing Khan noticed when he entered was the snoring. He smiled slightly. Yes, that was John. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to the army doctor. He softly touched the man’s blonde-grey hair, still surprised with how soft it was. He knew John liked this, so he wasn’t entirely surprised that after half an hour, the snores turned into small moans as John to have a rather vivid dream. Khan kept his hand where it was until John started to moan Sherlock’s name. Somehow, that broke him. The tears he had been holding back began to flood his eyes and rolled silently down his cheeks. John still loved him, still wanted him, he realized. He was going to tell him. Tomorrow. After a good night’s sleep.


	7. Two more conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My exams are almost over, which means that soon, I will be able to set a weekly date on which I'll update the story. It's not like there will be a lot more chapters, we're approaching the end, but I'll be happy when it's finished. Thank you for reading, kudo'ing and commenting.  
> xx

When John woke up again the next morning, the captain was sleeping next to him. It was quite cute actually. The man was lying half on the bed, his arms spread over John’s legs while he was also sitting in the chair next to his bed. He smiled softly and slowly slid his hands into the captain’s hair. It looked so much like Sherlock’s. The gel was coming off and it revealed that the slid back hair were actually curls. He wanted to wash the man’s hair so that he could play with the curls like he used to in London. John hummed softly as he imagined that the man under his hands was the detective he felt so strong about.

There was a soft hum that told him the captain was awake. Khan. That was what he said his name was. He had absolutely no idea what to think about the man. He wanted him to be Sherlock but at the same time… If he was and then he had lied about it. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

Khan looked up at John and he smiled warmly at the doctor. “I love it when you touch my hair.”

John blushed brightly. He wasn’t really gay, he only was for Sherlock and it felt weird that this man was looking at him with such a loving look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry… I’m-I’m not…” He pulled his hands back and looked at them.

“Oh… You mean you’re not gay?” Khan frowned. “But… You told me you loved m-Sherlock.”

“I know I do love him but… I’m really not gay.” He sighed softly.

Khan nodded and sat up now. He took a deep breath before he started to talk. “I need to tell you something, John.”

John frowned again as he tried to read off Khan’s face what it was, the news. It wasn’t that good, the news, he could see it on his face. Or was it?

“O-Okay?” John leaned back a bit so that he could look at the captain better.

“So… I have to confess something. I lied to you. About something very important.”

John swallowed tightly. He was getting worried. Did he really lie? About that Khan thing? He was scared, he didn’t want to know but at the same time he did.

“My name is not really Khan.”

John’s heart dropped. If this man in front of him was Sherlock, he didn’t know if he could love him again. He lied to him. That was one of the bases of their relationship. No lies.

“I… The first time you saw me you asked if I was Sherlock. I… I’m sorry but I lied. I am Sherlock. And I love you, John. So freaking much.” He looked up to see John’s reaction.

John’s eyes started to fill with tears. It was his worst nightmare and at the same time, there was nothing better he could’ve wished for. He wanted his lover back but he had lied. And what if this was just a trick to get him in his bed? That would probably be that. He didn’t believe the man. It couldn’t… Sherlock was dead. The detective was dead and he would need to learn to live with it.

“John… Please say something?” Khan looked up at him and the love was written all over his face.

This wasn’t possible. This was literally impossible. The captain couldn’t be the detective. How could he even live that long. He had spoken with the nurses and they had told him he’d been asleep for ages. Sherlock was dead and that was the truth.

“John, please, I’m getting worried. Anything, just a sign that you’re still alive.”

John shook his head. “No.”

“No? What do you mean ‘no’?” Khan frowned. “No, I don’t believe you, no I’m not still alive, no I’m not dead? Please just sat something else. I’m so worried, love.”

John glared at you. “Don’t call me that, Khan. You’re not Sherlock and you’ll never be. This is just a trick to get me in your bed, isn’t it?”

Khan looked shocked, not believing what his ears were telling him. “John…” He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to defend himself, tell John that he was so, so wrong, but he couldn’t. He jumped up once again and left the man all alone once more.

 

*

 

The captain stormed out of the hospital, the tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t care if anyone saw him or not while he stamped to his room. He had never expected this to happen. He had been so sure that the army doctor would just accept the fact that he had lied and just throw himself in his arms. He had been so happy when he felt John’s hands in his hair. He couldn’t believe it. He really couldn’t.

He hid his face in his hands and only looked up again as he heard someone enter. He had hoped that it would be John, but no. It was Sophia.

“Captain.” She started hesitantly.

He shrugged. He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to talk to anyone in fact, unless that person’s name was John Hamish Watson.

“I can talk to him.”

He shook his head. No. If anyone was going to convince his old lover that he really was who he said he was, then it was him.

“You’ll figure something out. I promise.” She smiled weakly at him.

And Khan, even though Khan was not convinced, just nodded in response.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am working on this! I promise, real life has just been a bit hectic and I'll try to finish another chapter today or tomorrow, but it will depend when you get it. If I don't post one this coming week, you'll get two chapters in the week after that. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, terrabins tickle me if I lie.


	8. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter. Thanks for reading this, I'm very grateful. Most of all to my friend on twitter (you know when it's you) for encouraging me and nagging a tiny bit. I love you! Anyway. I hope you enjoy it, I wish I could tell you I have an idea for a next story, but I've already forgotten, so leave prompts in the comments and maybe I'll do something with it. I hope you enjoy this last chapter! Xx

John didn't even notice the man who claimed to be the detective he knew and loved leave. He was staring in front of him, still shocked by what the man had said - and by his reaction, to be honest. He had wanted nothing more than Sherlock to be there when he woke up, and now that he had that, he blew it. He was already regretting it, his stupid, impulsive decision. He needed to get back to the detective but he was bloody chained to his bed, still too weak after centuries of sleep.

He ignored the warning beeps as he pulled out all the wires attached to his body. He didn't care if he was too weak or not, he was going to find the detective. Because he needed him, needed his love, his support, his kisses, his cuddles, everything about that man, even his rudeness and awkwardness in some social situations, he just... He shook his head. He shouldn't be this focussed on this. Khan - Sherlock, he corrected himself - had every right to say no to him now.

Once every single wire was detached, he got on his feet. The leg that had always suffered under the PTSD was weak and he couldn't stand on it, so he looked around the room for an improvised cane. He struggled his way to something that looked like it could carry part of his body weight and limped to the door. He was going to find the captain of this ship, apologize and - hopefully - kiss him.

This appeared to be bigger problem than he had expected because once he left the sick bay, he found himself in a maze of corridors and rooms. He looked left, then right and decided just to ask.

"I'm sorry, where is the bridge exactly?"

Someone in a red shirt looked at him with much disdain on his face, but eventually, the man nodded and guided him there. The walk there took about fifteen minutes, longer than it should have, because of his damn leg. Slowly but surely the distance between him and the captain shortened and John could hear the man scream at his crew. John bit his lip. Was he the cause for Sherlock's bad temper? The detective wasn't usually like this. He entered the bridge quite nervously and immediately, Khan looked up and glared at him. The captain stopped everything he was doing and moved to leave, but John didn't want that.

"Sherlock!"

That one word was enough for the man to stop in his path and slowly turn around. Hope lit up in his eyes.

"John."

John smiled at the man and limped towards him. Oh how he had missed this man. He was a genious and a complete idiot at the same time, but above all, he was his best friend and his lover. He would do anything to get him back.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. He knew it wasn't enough and never would be, but it was a start. A start to something better.

"I know." Sherlock whispered. "We... We should talk."

Sherlock actually looked nervous. He was looking from left to right, checking if his crew was glaring at them or not. They wouldn't dare of course, not with the mood he was in, not when he was talking to the one man who seemed to be able to change it.

"Where?" John looked up. "I don't know this ship."

"But I do. Let's go to my room." Sherlock smiled warmly.

John nodded and turned around towards the direction of the captain's room. Sherlock wrapped his arm around the doctor to support him, but John shrugged it away. Doing that, he almost fell down and if it hadn't been for Sherlock, he would've lied face down on the ground. John now accepted the help of the consulting detective as he limped towards the man's room.

 

*

 

If John had any doubts left, they immediately dissapeared once he entered the captain's room. It was almost an exact dublicate of 221B. He looked around and saw Billie the skull, his chair - where he had spent so many hours, drinking away after the diagnosis, the kitchen, a bit more modernised and filled with stuff that looked strange in his eyes, Sherlock's chair, where the detective was now sitting, his legs folded under him. He looked expectingly at John, hoping that the man would sit down.

So that was exactly what John did. There was a little pang in his chest as he immediately fell the familiarity of the situation.

"So..." John locked his eyes on Sherlock. "What do you want to talk about?"

The detective just shrugged. "Anything really. Why did you tell me you didn't believe me?"

John blushed in embarassment and looked down. "Because it seemed too good to be true. I mean, how could you have possibly survived all those years? Everyone just kept telling me what a miracle it was that I survived all those centuries without the disease spreading more."

"I made sure it didn't. I never left your side for long, John. I was always there."

"I know, I really do." He smiled before he took the detective's hand. "And I'm glad that you were there. Why didn't you tell me when I woke up though? What was that nonsense about Khan and Sherlock being dead?"

Sherlock grew quiet. John knew that this wouldn't be one of the captain's favorite subjects, but he needed to know. Not right now, but one day. One day was more than enough for him right now.

"I was scared..." Sherlock eventually admitted.

John wanted to ask what he had been scared of, but one look at the detective told him enough. He had been scared of losing him, of being rejected, of being called a freak by the only man who had accepted him for who he was. He squeezed the hand he was holding and smiled reassuringly before he slowly - oh so slowly - leaned in.

"I will never, ever reject you, Sherlock, my love." He whispered before he gently placed his lips on Sherlock's.

The man hummed as he returned the kiss rather hungry and needy. After a long, passionate kiss, he finally pulled away and stroked John's hair out of his face.

"Good."


End file.
